


The Prince that was promised

by Queen_Rhaenas_Favourite



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Dragons, direwolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24312058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Rhaenas_Favourite/pseuds/Queen_Rhaenas_Favourite
Summary: Robert falls on trident, but that was not the end of the war. When he is king, Rhaegar has to face the realisation that the prophecy he believed in so strongly, was wrong.17 years later, cold winds start to blow and old wounds re open, and some new ones are made too as Dornish Law must now be taken into mind when considering the line of succession.
Relationships: Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen (past)
Comments: 63
Kudos: 63





	1. For the honour of our fallen (and the pride of the living)

**Kingslanding, 283**

  
The Kings men were on them before they had barely even set eyes on the city. Ned had known it was coming, but it put him on edge all the same. They were escorted to the Red Keep by no less than twenty men. _Twenty is too many, we are only two after all,_ Ned thought, _well, three._  
  
Once inside the castle, Ned Stark and Howland Reed we’re confined to chambers in Maegor Holdfast, the castle within a castle. It was not long before a knock came at the door, and a man in white armour told Lord Stark that the King was requesting his presence. 

  
“You know what to do?” Ned asked.

  
“Aye,” Howland answered, reluctantly. “Though I’d sooner not do it, so come back whole.”

  
“I’d sooner you didn’t do it either but I may not have a choice in the matter,” he looked down at the boy in Howland’s arms. “Protect him, no matter what, protect him with your life if need be. If I don’t return-”

  
“-it means Westeros is not safe, not even the Neck,” Howland finished for him. “I know, Ned. Now go, he’s waiting.”

  
The White Knight accompanying him was Barristan Selmy. He wore a helm, so Ned could not see his face, but he knew the man from his voice when he had called for him. They walked in silence, and the tension between them was thick. Ned had brought the remains of two of Ser Barristan’s sworn brothers to Kings Landing with him, and a third who’s death he had also been responsible for Ned had already returned to his family for burial.   
  
Ned cleared his throat, “we heard King Aerys was slain by Ser Jaime, is that true?”

  
“It is true,” Barristan’s answer was curt, but he was a man of honour, Ned knew if he asked something then Selmy was sure to answer.   
  
“How did that come to happen?” Ned had left the Battle beneath Kings Landing long before it’s end. Once he’d learned his sisters location and found a group of men he trusted he left, leaving Jon Arryn in command. “When I left Lord Tywin was taking his forces to defend the walls.”

Barristan ground his teeth and was clearly reluctant to speak, but he answered all the same; “Ser Jaime claims the King was calling for the heads of yourself, Lord Tywin and Prince Rhaegar. The Kingslayer also claims that Aerys was threatening to unleash wildfire on the city.”

  
“Do you believe him?” 

  
“It is not for me to pass judgment,” Ned knew Ser Barristan mostly by reputation, but from that he knew the Knight was not like to forgive the man who killed the king he swore to protect. “The King believes Ser Jaime, that is all that matters.”

  
They arrived before a tall double door, and Ser Barristan knocked upon it twice with a gloved hand. It opened. As he walked the length of the room Ned tried not to look at the dragon skulls staring down at him from the walls. Ned kept his eyes only on the throne, and the man who sat atop it. 

  
“Lord Eddard,” said Rhaegar Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the first men, Lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm. 

  
“Your Grace,” Ned replied, head high, knees unbent.   
  
“Leave us,” Rhaegar’s voice echoed through the throne room, the lord of the small council looked at each other confused. “All of you, go. Now!”

  
The council men hurried from the room, the only people now remaining were the two white knights who stood before the throne. One was Ser Barristan, Ned knew, but the second… Jon Darry and Lewyn Martell were both slain in the rebellion, Oswell Whent, Gerold Hightower and Arthur Dayne all died at the Tower of Joy. Unless another man had been named in his absence there was only man the second guard could be; Ser Jaime Lannister. 

“You two as well,” Rhaegar said as he stood and began to descend the steps of the throne. 

“Your grace,” Barristan protested. 

“This man is unarmed, and Ser Jaime shall be waiting outside should I call for help. But I must speak to Lord Stark alone. Go see to the Queen.”

The knights bowed and filled the way the council had. 

“You spared my life,” the king said once they were alone. “In the battle, you could have killed me but you didn’t. Why?”

“What would your death have achieved? No one else knew where my sister was, if I’d killed you I never would have found her.”

“But even after I told you, you still did not kill me.”

“ _What would your death have achieved_?” Ned asked again, more forcefully this time. “Robert was dead, your father was mad. If you had died what would become of the realm? I wasn’t fighting for a crown I was fighting for my family. All I ever wanted was my sister home safe.” Ned felt his eyes begin to sting, the would was still fresh in his soul, “but now I do not even have that.”

Rhaegar gave him a queer look, Ned would have called it guilt, but he knew better. “How?” The King asked. 

“Sweating sickness,” _lie_ , it was the story he and Howland had agreed upon.

“You has a babe with you when you arrived at the city.”

“Aye,” the words caught in Ned’s throat as he choked down his honour. “My bastard.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Rhaegar‘s Expression showed he did not believe it. “I know you, Eddard, you have more honour than that.”

“I once thought the same of you, Rhaegar,” Ned snapped. “And yet here we are.”  
  
“Here we are,” the king muttered. “Bring her to me.”

“Her?” Ned furrowed his brows, “Lyanna is dead. I’m taking her back to Winterfell so she might rest beside her father and brother in the crypts. You could allow her that dignity at least.”

“Not Lyanna, the babe.”

“The babe is a boy.”

Rhaegar’s face fell, he looked as though someone had just punch through his soul. “No,” he whispered, “no you are lying.”

“No, I’m not,” Ned watched as Rhaegar shook his head, he almost looked as if he would cry. “He’s a boy, I’ve named him Jon. On the morrow I will find a ship to take him, Lord Reed and myself to white Harbour. I am taking Jon home to Winterfell with me.”

“No.” Rhaegar found his voice again. “You will not. I will not have any son of mine raised as a Northman’s bastard.”

“Better to live as a bastard than die as a prince,” Ned had plenty of time to think about it on his ride here, he knew how everything would play out. “Keeping him here will do no good for anyone, least of all him. To declare him yours would befoul my sisters memory, and be and to raise him as a prince would be a blatant insult to your wife’s house. In Winterfell he will be treated well, he’ll have siblings who don’t feel their claims are threatened by him. He’ll be safe.”  
  
“He’ll be safe here,” Rhaegar insisted. “Elia is a good woman, she would never hurt a babe.”

“No, I don’t believe she would either,” Ned agreed. “But what of her brothers? How would the Red Viper react to this, do you think?”

“ _I_ would protect him.”

“As you protected his mother?”

“I sent three of my own Kingsguard to protect her,” the hurt was plain on the kings face. “Three of the greatest fighters in the kingdom.”

“And I have brought you back the bones of two,” Ned felt his anger rising and balled his fists in an attempt at restraint. “It was a maester Lyanna needed, not gaolers.”

“I do not trust the maesters. “They have no love for my family, they would have seen both to the grave,” Rhaegar looked Ned in the eyes now for the first time. “I thought it would be a girl, I was so sure. A girl wouldn’t have been a threat. You don’t understand, there has to be three.”

“No,” Ned took a deep breath and stood as tall as he could, though he was still not as tall as Rhaegar. “My sister made me promise, with her dying breath, that I would protect her son. So that is what I will do. Your father murdered my father and brother. Your house has wronged my house in so many ways this year. But you won this war, so I am a rebel. I will bend the knee, now or with an audience I do not mind. And in return you shall pardon both myself and Lord Arryn. When I leave on the morrow you shall bid me farewell, and then we will never see each other again. I will rule the North and keep your peace, but you shall not interfere with my life or my family ever again. Are we agreed?”

Rhaegar said nothing, only clenched his jaw and looked to the dragon skulls all around him, as if seeking their council. “What will you tell the boy when he asks about his mother?” 

“Nothing, for a while at least,” Ned had tried not to think about what he would say do Jons mother. “Mayhaps when he’s grown, I’ll tell him the truth. But for now he’s safer as a Snow.”

Rhaegar nodded, “we are agreed.”


	2. Feathers and Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I want to clarify something right now, I’ve set the date here as 300 for one reason and one reason only; it makes it easier for me to do the maths. So everything that happened in 297 in the books is happening now instead, not for any significant reason, it’s just easier for me to work out the ages that way.

It was a quiet day in court. Same as always. One man had burned down his neighbours holdfast. As punishment he was made to surrender half his lands to his neighbour. An exile prince from the Summer Isles came to ask, once again, for the King to help him retaken his throne. The rescue by was politely declined, though the prince was told he would still be welcome to remain at court for as long as he needed. The rest was more of the same. 

There had been thirty five supplicants in total. A quiet day. Just like every other day. In truth, sitting in the throne room listening to petitioners was the last thing Aegon wanted to be doing. A good King must listen to all, his father told him. I’m not King yet, Aegon thought, sullenly, as he listened to yet another tale of woe, why must I suffer this now when I could be doing something useful. His father called it education, preparing him for his reign. _My reign is a long way off, if it ever comes…_

When the session was finally called to a close it was nearing mid morning, “how did you find today?” His father asked. 

_Tedious_ , he thought. “Quiet,” he said instead. 

“Any questions?”

Aegon thought for a second, “the Summer Islander, Jalabhar Xho, he’s been here for as long as I can remember and he’s asked your help again and again, why do you always say no?”

“I’ve seen enough war already, I have no desire to throw our country into another one especially for some place as far away as the Summer Isles,” Rhaegar sighed and turned to his son, “and truth be told we lack the resources for such an expedition. We’d need ships enough to carry our army there and men to sail them.”

“We have the new Velaryon fleet,” since the Greyjoy rebellion King Rhaegar has commanded Lord Monford Velaryon to build a hundred new ships every year to bolster the royal fleet. “The Velaryons are kin to us, they would gladly help I’m sure.”

“They might,” his father allowed, “or they may feel that we are abusing that kinship for our own ambition and desire to be conquerors again.”

“But surely if they new we were only doing it to help,” Aegon protested, “and a good relationship with the Summer isles could help us, it could improve our trade in Essos and bring us new incomes.”

“Only if we won, which there’s no guarantee that we would. If not then we would be taking our army halfway across the world would leave the country exposed to attacks for nothing. And I have already asked too much of Lord Monford, there’s always a price Aegon, you need to know that. The price may not always be gold, it may not even seem to be a price, but that’s what it is I’ll pay the price of building the ships when I am asked, but I dread to think what he will ask for if I demand he send those precious ships to a fools war.”

Aegon wondered what’s the price for the fleet was, as far as he’d known Lord Monford had done it simply because his King had asked it. Though thinking on it now that did not seem the sort of thing any Lord would do, regardless of who’d asked them. 

They found Aegon’s mother, Queen Elia, sitting in the gardens with Aegon’s sister Rhaenys, and his father's sister Daenerys. Daenerys was Aegon’s aunt, but she was two years his junior. Rhaenys was two years his senior. 

The two girls had never been especially fond of each other, Rhaenys thought her aunt childish and irritating, Daenerys thought her niece patronising and arrogant. Both were right to some extent. But Elia Martell had raised them both, so out of respect for her and all she had taught them, the two girls never fought or argued, simply avoided each other as much as they could. 

The three women all rose now, “father,” greeted Rhaenys, smiling. 

“My Lord,” Elia nodded. 

“Your grace,” Daenerys bowed her head. “Pray excuse me.”

“We must speak later,” Rhaegar spoke quietly. 

“Of course,” Daenerys nodded and left them. 

Elia watched her go then turned to her husband. “There was a Raven,” she began. “From Sunspear. Arianne has given birth, a healthy boy they’ve named Daeron.”

“That is good news,” Aegon smiled. Princess Arianne Martell was his cousin, and she was married to his uncle Viserys. Their first child had come two years prior, a girl named Visenya. Aegon had not met his new cousin, but he hoped they would come visit soon now Daeron was born. 

“It is indeed,” Rhaenys smiled, she was very smiley of late, especially when their father was present. “We must ask them to bring him when they come for Aegon’s nameday.”

Her voice was sweet, but her eyes were angry. Aegon’s eighteen nameday was less than a month away, and all were expecting an announcement to come with it. King Rhaegar had not yet named his heir. It was presumed by most that Aegon would succeed him, but of late his family spent most their conversations bickering about who should be the heir. 

The law in Dorne stated that the eldest child, not the eldest son, should inherit. Aegon and Rhaenys were half Dornish, so their mother believed that Dornish law should take precedence. Their father did not believe this. 

“Yes,” the Queen agreed, “we should ask them here. We have not seen them since they were wed, I should like to meet their children.”

“Very well, I’ll have maester Pycell write back and invite them.” He turned to Elia, “how is your search going?”

“It would go better if Rhaenys did not turn her nose up at every match I suggest,” Rhaenys gave her a sullen look. 

“None of them are good enough,” she muttered. 

“Yes, they are,” Elia picked up a piece of parchment and began to read from it. “Robb Stark, heir to Lord Eddard, the North does not like us, but a marriage could fix that. Edmure Tully, now the Lord of Riverrun since his fathers passing. Edric Dayne. Renly Baratheon, you know him well from his time here, you were friends once. Garth Hightower. Ser Willas Tyrell, my brother crippled him in a tourney, but this could be a way to restore peace between our houses.”

“The Tyrell is my favourite,” father said. “They fought for us in the rebellion, they’ve always been loyal to the Targaryens. And you’d be much happier in Highgarden than you would be in Riverrun or Winterfell.”

“I don’t see why I need to be making this choice now,” Rhaenys complained. “Can I not wait a while longer?”

“You are twenty, Rhaenys,” her mother’s voice was hard. “Most girls your age are already married, it’s past time you were too.”

“Your Mother is right,” the king agreed. Until that point Aegon had been silent, hoping to go unnoticed in this conversation. “It’s past time both of you found a good match. We won’t force anyone on you if you do not wish to marry them, but you need to start thinking about your duty to this family. Have you though if anyone good for Aegon, Elia.”

Aegon ground his teeth as his mother picked up a second list. “Margaery Tyrell, for many of the same reasons as her brother would be good for Rhaenys. Lucera Velaryon, Lord Monford’s daughter, if you want someone Valyrian. Myrcella Hightower- Lannister. Sansa Stark, Lord Eddards eldest daughter.”

Aegon looked at his feet. “Can I at least meet them before I make my decision?”

“Of course,” his father nodded. “They’ll be invited here for your nameday.”

“Forgive me, father,” Rhaenys interrupted. “But why is Daenerys not also being made to find a match?”

“She will,” Rhaegar frowned. “When it is time. As it stands she is barely six and ten, and you two are the priorities. Now excuse me, I must see the council. Elia.” He extended an arm to his wife. 

When Aegon’s father had made his mother his Hand most had been unhappy with the choice, but the Queen was proving as good a councillor as any. And the move had helped appease his uncles after the rebellion. Doran and Oberyn felt that their sister had been done a great insult when Rhaegar took Lyanna Stark. Now, everyone knew the real reason he’d done it had been to keep her safe from the mad king, and try prevent any conflict between the Starks and Targaryens. But it had gone wrong when the letter Lyanna wrote to her family had been lost on route to Riverrun.

The Martells should have been just as much Aegon’s family as they were his mother and sisters, but that was not the case. Rhaenys had their mothers look; black eyes, olive skin and thick, dark, curly hair. Aegon did not. He had the Targaryen look, his fathers indigo eyes and silver blonde hair. He had the same olive skin as Rhaenys, but besides that, nothing. Aegon knew if the succession continued to be questioned that Dorne would take his sisters side. 

“How was court?” Rhaenys asked. 

“Boring,” Aegon sat down beside her on the bench. 

“At least you were there,” Rhaenys complained. 

“I’d rather not have been if I’m being honest,” he sighed. “Does the succession really matter so much to you?”

“Does it not mean something to you?” Rhaenys retorted. “I am older, by the law of our mothers land I should have just as much right to inherit as you do.”

“And by the law of every other kingdom in Westeros it is the eldest son that inherits, meaning me. And of course it means something to me, but I’d sooner not have to keep quarrelling with you and mother about it,” Rhaenys gave him an unhappy look. “If you truly want father to consider you then just ask him if you can attend court or council meetings or whatever. Show him that you’re interested in this and that you want to learn more. He’ll like that.”

“Mayhaps I will,” she considered it for a moment then smirked. “So which of mother’s potential suitors do you like the sound of most?”

Aegon rolled his eyes. “Don’t you start too. I’m sure they’re all very lovely, but I’d like to at least meet them all before I start deciding. Which is your favourite?”

“The only one I’ve ever met is Renly,” Renly Baratheon was an honoured guest in Kingslanding for many years until his brothers first child was born. Once she became old enough Lord Stannis was asked to send the girl to Kingslanding and Renly was returned to Storms End. “But he is the youngest brother of a traitor, my friend, yes, but not an appropriate match. I’d sooner not marry anyone who would require me to move somewhere it snows during summer, or anywhere in the Riverlands,” she wrinkled up her nose. “I would not be happy there. Edric Dayne is three and ten, Garth Hightower old, dull and the second son once again. That leaves Willas Tyrell, him I wouldn’t mind too much, truly. Highgarden is warm, beautiful and not too far from here. Only..”

“Only what?”

“Only mother and father seem so keen for you to wed Margaery.”

“So?” Aegon had not wanted to admit it, but Margaery Tyrell had been the one he was most inclined towards. She was close to his own age, from a great and loyal house, and all agreed she was exceptionally beautiful. 

“So we couldn’t both wed Tyrell’s,” Rhaenys rolled her eyes. “It would give their house too much power.”

“Almost as much power as Dorne has,” it was a risky thing to say, his sister was very protective of their mothers kingdom. “And if there was to be an issue with succession it would not do to have yet another house split over the decision.”

“Well I wasn’t going to say it that way,” his sister admitted, reluctantly. “But it’s true enough.”

“Then I suppose we’ll have to wait and see,” Aegon sighed. “Who gets the throne, and who gets the rose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After last chapter, a lot of people were saying that Ned should be fine to tell Cat the truth in this one, but he’s still got to be careful. The Martells are still angry that Rhaegar was seen to chose Lyanna over his own wife (both at Harrenhal and when he kidnapped her) so they’d be even angrier if they found out the two had a child. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the Rhaegar-Lyanna Isle of Faces wedding, so I’m going to leave that area deliberately vague, besides only Rhaegar is still alive from it and he’s not going to say anything. So basically, Ned won’t have told Cat from the start about Jon because he didn’t fully trust her yet and he needed her reaction to be genuine in order for everyone to believe his lie to keep Jon safe from the Martells, and also Rhaegar’s enemies in the North.  
> Also, just to make Rhaegar’s reaction and actions a little bit clearer, he was completely convinced that Jon would be a girl, then she wouldn’t have been a threat to his other kids and everything would have been fine, but cos he’s a boy it gives him rights to inherit (it’s a shitty sexist system, trust me, I hate it too). And there’s the whole prophecy thing, Rhaegar wanted a boy and two girls, preferably siblings, to deal with the long night. So he was still very misguided and wrong on what he did, but that’s just a little peak into his thought process.  
> In the version Cersei marries Baelor Hightower, hence Myrcella Hightower- Lannister


	3. I could do worse (but I want better)

  
“Please say you understand why I have done this.”

“I understand.”

“I should have told you earlier,” her brother sighed. “I’m truly sorry I can’t give you the same choice we’ve given Aegon and Rhaenys.”

“It’s alright,” Daenerys forced a smile. It wasn’t alright, in truth, but she had no choice. “Monterys was always kind when he came to visit Lucera. And she is still a great friend of mine, I’ll be happy to call her sister now.”

Rhaegar smiled, visibly relieved. “I’m glad you think that. It won’t be just yet, Aegon and Rhaenys need to find matches first. But once they’re settled you’ll have to go to Driftmark.”

“Of course,” Dany nodded. Monterys Velaryon was hardly the worst boy in the kingdoms, but he wouldn’t have been her first choice either. His elder sister Lucera had been Dany’s handmaiden and companion for ten years until she was sent home. Dany missed her, Lucera had been witty and joyful and never withheld any bit of gossip from Daenerys. Monterys had her look, at least, and he seemed calm and polite and kind, but he was no where near as interesting a companion as his sister was. 

“I’d prefer if you kept this to yourself for now,” Rhaegar continued. “Nothing has been made certain, things could change at any time. It would be good for this not to become public knowledge incase anything does go wrong.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” _who do I have to tell?_ “Don’t worry.”

Rhaegar smiled, kissed her forehead and left her alone on her balcony. _Ships_ , Dany sighed, _he needed them a lot more than he needed me, he did just what anyone else would have. It’s completely understandable_. But it wasn’t. And it wasn’t fair. 

_He’s doing this because he wants you gone,_ said the voice inside her head, the one that sounded suspiciously like Viserys. Though part of her wanted to agree. Viserys had never made any attempt to hide his animosity towards her except when their brother was present. He was all smiles and chivalry when Rhaegar was watching, but when not…

Dany had been born in Kingslanding, during one of the worst storms in living memory. Her mother had died birthing her, Viserys had wept then, though he always denied it. He still blamed Daenerys for their mothers death. That was not the thing most people found unsettling about her though. Reports of what exactly happened always varied, but one thing was always the same; at some point during the time of her birth a lightning bolt struck the banner that flew directly above the room she was born in, and the banner was set afire. It smouldered for days after, and it was oft called a bad omen, a babe born beneath the burning banner of her house. _She will bring I’ll luck,_ they would whisper, _it is a sign that she is accursed, the gods hate her for her ill birth and mad father_. If they should hate her for such things, then they should also hate her brothers Dany would always think, though she never said it. 

There had been countless suitors come to Red Keep in hopes of wedding one of the princesses, that was part of how the feud between herself and Rhaenys had started. She’d only been five or six when it happened the first time, and the boy could not have been much older himself, but when he greeted the Queen and princesses and he addressed her as Rhaenys, clearly fooled by her Valyrian look Rhaenys lack there of. It had happened at least a dozen times since then. 

_Well at least on Driftmark I won’t have to see her anymore,_ that gave her some small consolation. _Monterys Velaryon_ , she thought, _he’s of an age with me, comely and kind, and he’s Valyrian._ “I could do worse,” she said aloud, _but I could also do better, or I could at least get to choose._

They had to wait a while before they were married, to allow Aegon and Rhaenys time to wed and settle down, that should give Dany some time. _Time to do what_? She asked herself, _sulk around the Red Keep feeling sorry for myself and pining over how unfair this is? No._ She decided that she would handle this with all the grace she had, she would be the best wife to Monterys that she could be, but until then she would see as much of the world as she could. She’d always loved speaking with Oberyn Martell, the queens brother, and hearing about the places he’d been and the things he had done. She could not go to Oldtown, for girls weren’t allowed to be maesters, and she doubted she’d have the time to go to Essos, but she’d never seen any part of Westeros outside Kingslanding and Dragonstone. 

The next time she saw her brother was at dinner, he and Aegon arrived late as they were wont to do. Dany’s niece and nephew were well occupied in their own conversation and Elia had felt unwell so left early, that left Rhaegar free for Dany to speak to.

“I was thinking about what you said,” she began. “How nothing will happen until Aegon and Rhaenys have first been wed, and how I’ve seen so little of the world in my life so far.”

“You want to travel?” He asked. 

“Yes, well, only around Westeros,” Dany smiled, hoping that might help. “Lots of Targaryens have done royal progresses in the past, and not just the ruling monarchs. I could take a small party, and visit some of the Kingdoms. We’d send word ahead first of course.”

“Where would you go?” Rhaegar chewed on his food. 

“North first, I think. I’d stay mostly to the Kingsroad, but we’d go to Riverrun, it’s only right. The Eyrie too if there’s time, though the path through the mountains there is perilous, so mayhap not. Either way, we’d continue north again after.”

Her brother paused and looked at her. “How far North do you plan on going?”

“As far North as North goes, I want to see the Wall.”

“I’m not sure how safe it would be for you there, or anywhere past the Neck for that matter.”

“Please,” Dany could not back down. “There’s- I’ve been reading, and I saw that during Aegon V’s reign his brother Aemon Targaryen and his cousin Brynden Rivers joined the Nights Watch. Aemon was the maester there, and there was no record of his death. He’d be very old now, but it’s possible he still lives. I’d like to meet him.”

“You’re right, Aemon is still alive,” her brother smiled a sad smile. “Before the rebellion I wrote to him, and he wrote back. I’m sure he’d be happy to meet you.”

“So you don’t mind if I go to the North?”

“I mind, but it would be wrong to rob you of the chance to know your own family. You’ll have to stop at Winterfell, but I’d advise you not to stay any longer than you need.”

“Thank you,” Dany beamed. “All I need now is send word ahead and decide who to bring.”

“You’ll have thirty of our household guard,” it seemed her brother had thought more about this in the few seconds since she’d told him than Dany had all day. “And you’ll take Ser Barristan too. You are a member of the royal family, you need a Kingsguard with you, and Ser Barristan is well loved and respect in all the Kingdoms.”

“Alright,” Dany did not mind that at all, truth be told Ser Barristan was her favourite of the White Knights. “I’ll have to take Shireen too.”

“Lord Stannis’ daughter?” Shireen has come to court not long before Lucera left, so the girl had become Dany’s new handmaiden and companion. She was eleven, and Dany found herself wishing for her previous companion back in the girls stead, but it would not be so. 

“I’m sure Ser Barristan will do a wonderful job protecting me, but he won’t be any help with washing or dressing. So I’ll need Shireen.” The Baratheon girl was not bad at her role, she was always sweet and polite and did what was required, and Dany felt a certain kinship with her. Shireen had suffered from greyscale as a babe, and the mark of it still scarred her cheek and jaw where the skin was grey and cracked. _It bears ill luck_ , people would say, _the child is not clean._ Dany bore a similar mark, only hers was upon her soul. Invisible, but clearly seen by all those who knew the story of her birth. 

“Very well,” Rhaegar tried to suppress a smile. “She’ll go too.”

“Thank you, brother.” Dany hugged him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realise that a lot of my chapters are quite short, but that’s because I’m just trying to write what makes sense for the chapter. I’ll probably write longer ones from now on but these first three were mostly just laying out the context and foundations for this fic.  
> I did age Monterys up for the purpose of this, he’s like 9 in canon.  
> Hope you’ve enjoyed :)


	4. Sparks that lit the flame

Rhaenys was in a foul mood. She’d placed a bet on Ser Jaime Lannister to win the joust during the tourney, but he’d been unhorsed by Ser Loras Tyrell. As a girl, and a member of the royal house, it wasn’t strictly appropriate for Rhaenys to place bets the way everyone else did, so instead she had made a more private bet with Lady Margaery before the tourney began. 

Margaery Tyrell was everything they had been expecting; polite and sweet and beautiful, and surprisingly clever. Rhaenys had enjoyed her company in the time she’d spent in the Red Keep. Margaery’s brother Willas, however, had been a great disappointment. 

Willas was kind enough, and polite and courteous, but he was also dull. It had taken Rhaenys less than a day to decide against marrying him, or spending any more of her time with him. She had not entirely abandoned him though, she’d been sure to introduce him to Daenerys instead and ensure the two spent much of their time together. _They seem a perfect pair to me_ , Rhaenys thought, _she’s near as poor company as he is_. It was cruel to think, she knew, but she could not help herself. Daenerys had always found life hard in Kingslanding, she had no mother of her own so she relied heavily on Elias dotage and attention, drawing the queen away from her own daughter. _Not to mention her “dreams”..._

Rhaenys uncle Viserys was likely the only person to dislike the girl more than she did. And that was half the reason she found her aunt so irritating. Viserys had been a prick to everyone, Dany more than most to be sure, but he’d certainly never been kind to Rhaenys either. The girl had burst in on her and her mother on more than one occasion, crying because Viserys had hit her or told her it was her fault their own mother died. Rhaenys remembered her grandmother, Rhaella, she’d always been so kind. She used to swoop Rhaenys into the air and hug her tight. Rhaenys did not blame Daenerys for her grandmothers death, no matter her bias she was no fool. It was not uncommon for a women to die in childbirth, especially one of Rhaella’s age. 

Almost all the guests who had been invited to Kingslanding had attended, only the Starks had not. Lord Eddard had given no explanation for his absence, only an apology that they were unable to attend and his best wishes to the prince on his nameday. Rhaenys thought it quite rude, as did her brother, but their parents agreed it was likely for the best. And the Stark children were all younger that Aegon and Rhaenys, so they would likely have had little in common even if they had attended. 

To Rhaenys surprise, the suitor she found herself warming to the most was Edmure Tully. He was almost eight years her senior, but also comely and not half as dull as Willas was. He was happy to gossip about the other Lords and Ladies, even his sister Lysa Arryn. But he drew the line when asked about his other sister, Catelyn. He said she was as good a woman as any, and that she could not be faulted for wanting to keep her children safe at home. “Brandon came south once, as did his father and sister. Not one of them returned home. Cat named one of her sons Brandon, she won’t let this one face the same fate.” Rhaenys appreciated the dedication he had towards his family. 

Aegon and Margaery had taken to each other far better than Rhaenys had to Willas. They got along so well that they were sat together now as they ate. She had been here less than a week, but it was already clear that not one of the other girls could hold a candle to Margaery Tyrell, not in Aegon’s eyes at least. 

Myrcella Hightower- Lannister, who had come with her mother Cersei and younger brother Tommen, was fair as her lady mother, but shy around those who were older than her. The girl did seem to enjoy the company of Trystane Martell, Rhaenys’ cousin, so the girls mother need not find the journey a complete waste. 

Lucera Velaryon had come too, along with her brother Monterys. But she had spent barely five minutes with Aegon, preferring to spend her time with Daenerys, _but there’s not much a surprise there_. Rhaenys was glad, Lucera was a gossip, and a bad match for Aegon. 

As for Rhaenys own suitors, she’d spent no more time than necessary with any of them spare Edmure. Speaking with Renly again had been good, but she knew he could not love her the way he would need to if they were wed. Edric Dayne was a child of ten and three, though he seemed even younger to Rhaenys. Garth Hightower must have been older than her father. 

Her mother had seen her discontent, and spoke to her privately once the feast was over. “If you truly do not like any of them we can look for more,” she’d said. Rhaenys was quite taken aback by how calm her mother seemed, though she supposed it was because Elia was soon to have at least one of her children suitably engaged. “We could try Lord Stark again, explain why we asked him to come and that you would still be interested in meeting his son. Or his ward, for that matter, Balon Greyjoy’s boy, Theon. He’s of an age with you and has been raised by the Starks since he was ten, so with any luck he’ll have learnt some of the manners they neglect to teach their children on the Iron Islands.”

“I’d sooner not have to live on the Iron Islands,” she wrinkled her nose up. “They’re cold and damp and small, and so are the people.” Her mother looked at her despairingly. “Sorry, mother. I don’t mean to be rude. But I think Lord Stark has made it quite clear he doesn’t want his children to have anything to do with us. And I don’t hate _all_ the options you’ve given.”

“Which do you dislike the least then?”

“Lord Edmure wasn’t so bad,” Rhaenys admitted. “He’s nice enough, and not too old. The only issue is if I’d have to leave here and go live in the Riverlands.”

Elia nodded but was interrupted before she could respond. “Mother, Rhaenys, May I join you?”

“Of course,” Elia smiled as her son sat beside her. “Truly I’m surprised you have time for us now.”

“Yes,” Rhaenys saw her brother confusion but she knew what her mother mean. “You seemed to be having such a lovely time with Lady Margaery.”

“Well it’s what you wanted wasn’t it?” Aegon huffed. 

“It is,” Elia laughed. “I’m sorry. But I’m happy you both have found someone you like at least.”

“Who does Rhaenys like?” Aegon raised his eyebrows. 

“Edmure Tully,” their mother answered on her behalf. 

“Really?” Aegon laughed. “What happened to you not wanting to live in the Riverlands?”

“The sentiment still stands,” Rhaenys admitted. “But who’s to say we _would_ live in the Riverlands?”

“If you married Edmure you’d become Lady of Riverrun when Lord Hoster dies. The Lady of Riverrun must needs live in Riverrun.”

“But the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms resides in the Red Keep,” Aegon’s smirk froze and he looked at his mother, but Elia was focused on her daughter. “So you see brother, things may work out the way I want them to after all. You may have the rose, but I may have the throne.”

“Rhaenys,” her brothers voice was hard as stone. “You are my elder, it is true, but I am the heir by the laws of six of the seven kingdoms. Half Dornish or not, it’s the majority that matters so Westerosi law takes precedence. It always has.”

“Always?” Rhaenys matched his tone. “This situation is new to the realm, the legitimacy of Dornish law has never had to be questioned before.”

“Daeron the second married Myriah Martell, she a Dornish woman. The law of inheritance was not questioned then.”

“That’s because Myriah Martell bore four children for Daeron and not one of them was a girl. I am older. Who’s to say I couldn’t make just as good a queen as you could a king.”

“No one, I’m sure you’d make a great Queen,” Rhaenys watched as their mother leaned back to look over her son as he spoke. “But this is not the way the Targaryens have ever done things. It would not do to contest this issue now.”

“If not now, when?” Rhaenys asked. “If not us, who? We are as close as any siblings, we could resolve this issue ourselves. There have been countless times in our family’s history when a female heir has been overlooked in favour of a male alternative. And when that happens, conflict arises.”

“If you’re going to bring up the Dance again-”

“It’s not just the Dance! Rhaena, the conquerors granddaughter, rightful queen in three ways, once by birth, twice by marriage, dragon rider from the age of twelve. She was a woman grown when her uncle died, with children of her own, but her claim was overturned in favour of her brother, a boy of ten. Rhaenys, the _queen-who-never-was,_ daughter to the prince of Dragonstone. But when old Jaehaerys died her claim was denied and her cousin Viserys was crowned instead. These are just two examples, both had repercussions. Robbing Rhaenys of her birth right eventually lead to the Dance. Rhaena never truly saw eye to eye with her brother again, and while she lived on Dragonstone three of her dragon e-” 

“Is everyone well?” Rhaenys head whipped round to see who had interrupted her. It was her father, accompanied by his sister. 

“Yes, father,” Aegon answered. “Rhaenys was just telling us about how the Dance really started.”

 _That is a gross oversimplification, and misleading. I was explaining the disadvantages of denying a woman’s right to rule._ But Rhaenys did not have time to put her thoughts into words. 

“And how is that, in your opinion Rhaenys?” Her father asked. 

“With the last Rhaenys,” answered Rhaenys. “The queen-who-never-was. If she had been crowned queen in the great council none of it would have happened.”

Aegon scoffed. “There must be half a hundred events that you could argue the same for. But it did happen. It happened because Ser Criston Cole had a feud with Rhaenyra, and Queen Alicent wanted her son to sit the Iron throne. Rhaenyra was named the heir by her father, that made Aegon a usurper and Ser Cole and Queen Alicent traitors when then crowned him instead of his sister.”

“No,” said Daenerys. “I agree more with Rhaenys,” _now that_ is _a surprise_. “They may have began the conflict, but the choice to ignore Rhaenyra’s claims didn’t come from nowhere. I’d say the fault lies mostly with old Jaehaerys. If he’d simply acknowledge Rhaenys as the heir as was her right then Rhaenyra and Aegon would have had only a diluted claim to the throne and Westeros would likely have been safe under Rhaenys’ descendants. The point being, Jaehaerys set a precedent that a woman is below _any_ male in the family. That a mans younger brother could inherit before his daughter could. They were so against the idea of a woman’s rule that they ignored all true laws of inheritance to remove the woman from the line of succession. And they did it more than once, that’s why the Dance happened.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Rhaenys smiled, genuinely, and it was probably the first time she had felt any such kinship with her aunt. _I wonder, if this issue were to come to war, who’s side would she be on?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m just going to put it out there now, I think Rhaenyra had the better claim. Feel free to debate me in the comments if you want, I’d genuinely love to hear other people’s takes on the Dance.  
> There’s probably going to be a small time jump to the next chapter.  
> Hope you’ve enjoyed, let me know your thoughts :)


	5. Winterfell

Ned

“Is everything ready?” Catelyn asked. 

“As it can be,” Ned replied. They had received the kings raven almost a month ago, and Ned had been dreading the outcome ever since. He sighed. “Im still confused as to what part of The North wants nothing to do with you or yours Rhaegar couldn’t understand!”

“At least he isn’t coming himself,” his wife placed a hand on his shoulder. “And the girl won’t be staying for any longer than need be. The king said she wants to see the Wall so she can meet their maester. We declined their invite to Kingslanding, it would be a blatant insult to deny the princess hospitality.”

“I do not want her going to the Wall either. It makes no sense, why would she travel all the way to the end of the world just to meet some maester?” Ned should not have felt so anxious at the prospect of hosting a sixteen year old child, but he did. “The king sent her, I know he did.”

“Why? Why would he send his little sister to do something he could easily do himself?” Catelyn asked, then added quietly. “And what would he even want with the boy?”

“Nothing good,” Ned had kept Jon’s parentage secret for sixteen years, but after Jon decided he wanted to join the Nights Watch he had needed someone to turn to for advice. 

Catelyn had been angry at first that he had lied to her, and with herself for treating the boy so poorly. It had taken her some time before she had been able to speak to him again. “What do I do, Cat? He’s all but packed and ready to leave, So certain is he that the Nights Watch is his place.” He’d asked her. 

“You must let him make his own choices, if this is truly what he wants then let him go.”

“But can I let him go without telling him the truth? Once he’s said the words there’ll be no going back.”

“Then tell him the truth,” Catelyn said, “let him make his decision knowing exactly what all his other options are.”

“I can’t,” Ned whispered. “He’s still not safe. And if he learns the truth he may seek to know the rest of his family. And we’ve heard the rumours, the Queen wants the princess to be their heir and the king thinks it should be the prince. Placing another contender before them would only fan the flames of chaos.”

“Then ask him to wait a while. And don’t tell him. If in a year or so it’s still his desire, then let him join the watch as Ned Stark’s bastard. Then even if the king or his family come looking for him, he’ll be no threat to them. He’ll be safe, protected by his own vows.”

The memory of the deception made Ned cringe. He’d always meant to tell Jon the truth someday, only the right day had never come. The boy had left for the wall near three months ago, still ignorant of who he truly was. 

“It does no good to worry about it now,” Catelyn told him. “We’ll see what the girl knows or doesn’t know when she comes.”

She arrived the next evening, along with thirty men at arms and a Kingsguard knight. Ned had brought all the men and women who worked in the castle out to greet her, though he knew he ought to have brought more. The girl did not seem to mind much though. 

“My Lord,” she greeted, “I thank you for allowing us into your home.”

I had little choice. “Of course, your grace,” He kissed her hand, “you and your men are most welcome here. You must be weary from your travel, Poole will show you to your rooms.” His steward bowed. “We would be honoured if you would sup with us tonight, but we will have food delivered to you if you wish to take this night to recover from your journey.”

Ned tried not to show his disappointment when Princess Daenerys decided she would eat with tonight. It was even harder not to show his relief when she revealed she would leave again on the morrow. 

As they ate, it became clear to Ned that his children had different feelings about Daenerys than he did. She had Sansa’s undivided attention for the whole duration of the feast. His daughter wanted to hear everything about Kingslanding and the Red Keep and all the knights and the tourneys, and to do her credit Daenerys had answered all her questions without a word of complaint or even seeming annoyed. 

Bran spent most of his time interrogating Ser Barristan about the life of a Kingsguard and what it had taken for him to become a knight. Rickon asked her whether she’d ever seen a real live dragon on at least three different occasions, Daenerys answered the same each time, no but I have seen their skulls, she even favoured him with a smile. 

Robb and Arya were more reserved, Arya mostly out of disinterest and boredom. Robb, Ned knew, was aware of his fathers feelings towards the girls house, and was the only one of his siblings who knew how his grandfather and uncle had died. He would often glance back at his father, and Ned could only assume that he too was enjoying her company, but did not want to upset his father in doing so. 

Theon Greyjoy, Ned’s ward, seemed the most pleased with their guest. He smiled even more than usual and made every effort to speak with her. 

“So how long do you intend to stay at Winterfell, your grace?” He asked. 

“Oh, not at all,” Daenerys glanced at Ned, “I planned to leave on the morrow, but I hear it takes over a fortnight to reach Castle Black from here, so I may need to stay a day or two longer to prepare. If Lord Stark is agreeable of course.”

“You’re going to Castle Black?” Arya piped in, suddenly wholly invested in the conversation. 

“Yes, that’s why I came North.”

“Then you might see Jon!” Arya exclaimed. “Will you give him a message from me? Tell him I miss him.”

“Arya!” Robb warned. “I know you miss him, we all do. But I’m sure the princess will have more important things to do than deliver your messages.”

“Who is Jon?” Daenerys asked, and Ned felt his stomach clench. 

“He’s our brother,” Robb explained. “He’s in the Nights Watch.”

“Our half brother,” Sansa disclosed to the princess quietly. 

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Ned said before any of his other children could react to Sansa’s comment, “what made you want to see the Wall?”

“The maester,” the Princess smiled, “his brother was my great grandfather. Aemon has been at the wall for over sixty years, most people have forgotten his family name. When I found out I knew I had to meet him at least.”

Ned felt somewhat relieved. She seemed honest enough, and a lie like that could be easily uncovered, Ned would only have to ask Maester Luwin for confirmation. 

The feast did not last long after that. Rickon was so tired he nearly fell asleep in his soup, and Aryas patience was beginning to wear thin. Bran asked if they would be allowed to bring the wolves inside now, so that they might sleep in their rooms as they normally did. Ned had to explain that the wolves would be staying in the Godswood until the princess had left Winterfell, and that as her room was beside Brans, keeping Summer there would only end badly. 

Ned caught the princess before she could leave. “Your grace, if it is your wish to stay in Winterfell passed the morrow you would be most welcome to do so. Truly.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “Mayhaps it would be best to rest a few days before we make for the Wall.”

  
Dany

The dream had been exactly the same as always, a great city stood before her, each building the size of the Red Keep if not bigger and made from melted black stone. Then the world broke and the city was swamped by rivers of liquid fire that spewed broke the mountains surrounding it. The ice came even faster than the fire had, and the city and the fire lakes froze in the blink of an eye. It was almost serene, until the fog came, black and so thick it threatened to choke her. 

The fog blew out after what felt like years of being trapped inside it, and Dany found herself in an open white field. It’s here, the voice said, she could not say who it belonged to but it was an old voice, a mans voice. It’s here, you must find it. Dig. 

“Dig with what?” Dany asked. 

Dig, was the only response she received. So she went to her knees and pulled at the snow with her hands. She dug for hours but it was not good, as soon as any hole appeared before her the sky would open and it would be filled with snow once more. 

“I can’t!” Dany wept. “I give up!”

Then she ran. As the ground beneath her grumbled and shook, the sound of a horn was blaring in her ears and when she looked up she saw a wall, The Wall. As the horn continued to sound the wall began to shake and chips of ice flew in all directions, until finally the ice cracked and it shattered into a thousand pieces. 

Child of three, another voice spoke now, a female voice. Slayer of lies, bride of fire, child of three. Daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, child of three. Mother of dragons. Dany turned and the woman was behind her, a starlight mask covering her face. 

“Who are you?” Dany screamed, but the woman did not reply. “Who are you?” Dany screamed again, and as she did the woman in the mask erupted in flames. Dany reaches to pull her to safety but she was gone, and when she pulled her hand from the flames she found herself unburnt. 

The fire grew before her eyes. It grew tall, and wings of flame unfurled from its side. The fire took the shape of a great dragon, it’s neck extended as it roared into the sky. Wake the dragon, was that viserys? Dany could not tell anymore. She reached out her hand, but when she touched the flames the dragon turned to stone.

She knew what came next, it was always the same. She knew if she reached out to the dragon again, it would turn from stone to flesh, and it would carry her away. But this time she was interrupted, when she heard a bird cawing. She looked up to see a crow flying away over her head, it turned and looked at her. Dany saw it had three eyes, then it cawed again.

That was when she woke, and heard a thud from the room beside her followed by footsteps and the creak of a door opening. She did not want to go back to sleep for fear of the dream returning, so she dressed quickly and went to follow the footsteps. 

Ser Barristan stood outside her door. “Are you well your grace?” He whispered. 

“Yes, I just need some air, thank you,” then as an afterthought she added, “has anyone else gone passed Ser?”

“Brandon, his lordships second son.”

“Which way did he go?” Ser Barristan pointed the way. “Thank you Ser.”

As she followed the child’s footsteps she thought on her dream. She’s had at half a dozen times before, but mostly she would forget it as soon as she woke up. I’ll write it down later, so I remember it this time. She thought about what the woman said, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons. 

The daughter part was easy, her parents had been Targaryens, the blood of the dragon Lords of old Valyria. Bride and mother, she was mother to no one yet. And bride.. bride of dragons, she almost laughed, bride of seahorses more like. The Velaryons were the blood of Old Valyria too, but their family had never been dragon riders. Their look was different too. She thought of Monterys and Lucera, they had the silver hair sure, but their eyes were turquoise blue. Beautiful, yes, but the blood of the dragon had purple eyes. 

It did not take her long to catch up to Bran. 

“Ser,” she called softly. The boy was far from a knight, but she knew he wished to be one and she didn’t feel she knew him well enough to address him as Bran. 

He jumped at the sound of her voice, then sighed, “oh, it’s just you,” he said. “I thought you were a ghost.” Then hurriedly, “m-meaning no offence, your grace.”

“None taken,” she smiled. “Couldn’t you sleep? I heard a noise I thought someone might have fallen.”

“I knocked over a chair is all,” the boy looked down at his feet, then began to continue on his journey. “I had a bad dream,” he mumbled. 

“So did I,” Dany walked after him. “Where are you going?”

“To the Godswood.”

“May I come too?”

Bran eyed her cautiously. “Yes, but you must promise not to tell father. And don’t wonder off, it’s not safe for you there on your own.”

Dany had been about to ask him why that was when the boy seemed to disappear. “Bran?” 

“Up here,” Dany looked up and saw a boy crouched on a windowsill. “We have to go this way so the guards don’t see.”

Dany was beginning to feel sceptical about this, but she was also intrigued. So she followed him out the window and dropped down onto a wall. Bran ran along the wall so easily Dany was misguided for a moment into thinking they were closer to the ground, but when she looked down she saw it was at least a fifteen foot drop, and the wall itself was barely two feet wide and uneven. The boy is ten, if he is not afraid, neither should I be. 

When the wall ended Bran scrambled down the side and Dany followed. She looked around and in the pale light of moon she saw she was in a forest. The Godswood. It was nothing like the Godswood in Kingslanding, that had been gentle and tame. A few oak and ash trees grew there, but mostly it was filled with benches for sitting and sweet smelling flowers; jasmine and honeysuckle and butterfly bushes. This Godswood was thick and dark, it was ancient and there were steaming pools scattered around her. 

Bran whistled softly. “Summer,” he called, “Summer, to me.”

“Who is Summer?” Bran gave her a puzzled look. 

“Summer is my wolf.”

“Your wolf?” Dany felt her stomach clench.

“Well, he’s a direwolf actually.”

“You never told me there was a direwolf here,” Dany felt her panic rising. 

“Yes I did,” Bran insisted. “I told you that it would be dangerous.”

“But you never said there was a wolf.”

“Summer won’t hurt you, he listens to me,” Brans eyes flicked away from her and toward the bushes by the wall. “You should mind Shaggy though, he doesn’t much like new people.”

“There’s more than one!” 

“Yes, there’s five,” Dany could have fainted when she heard those words

“Five direwolves.”

“We all have one, mine is Summer, Shaggydog is Rickon’s, Sansa’s is called Lady, Aryas is Nymeria and Robb’s one is called Grey Wind. Jon has one too, but he took him to the Wall. Father didn’t want them running around the castle while you were visiting, so he had them locked in here. I thought you would have hear them howling earlier, it was very loud.”

“I must have been asleep,” Dany slept deeply when she dreamed, almost nothing could wake her. “Where are they now exactly.”

“Shaggy was in those bushes behind you, but he’s gone now.” Dany’s head whipped around to see the bushes. “And Summer… he’s here! To me Summer.”

The beast was undeniably beautiful. It had pale grey fur and golden eyes, and it seemed almost as wary of Dany as she was of it. 

“He won’t bite you,” bran said, though it did little to reassure her. “Come, I’ll show you.”

Reluctantly, Dany stepped closer. The wolf stared at her with ancient gold eyes that seemed as if they could see into her soul. The look sent shivers up her spine. 

“Put out your hand,” Dany did as she was bid. The direwolf sniffed at her fingers then licked her palm with a rough, wet tongue. Brand smiled, “see?”

“Can we sit down somewhere?” Dany took her hand away and wiped it on her cloak. 

“This way,” Bran led her deeper into the wood. Everywhere around them Dany could hear bushes rustle and she felt as if she was seeing golden eyes and grey fur everywhere. They won’t attack me when Bran is near, she told herself. 

Bran stopped beneath a huge tree. It’s white trunk seemed to glow in the moonlight, and it’s red leaves looked like bloody hands reaching down for her. There was a face carved into the trunk, it’s eyes wept blood red tears. 

“Is this a Weirwood?” Dany breathed. 

Bran nodded. 

“I’ve never seen one before,” all the Weirwoods in the south had been burnt or felled thousands of years ago. Most castles had Godswood, and all Godswood a had a hearttree. The hearttree in the Red Keep was an old oak, Rhaegar told her once it had been planted near three hundred years ago. That had seemed ancient to Dany at the time. But this tree, it must have been there since the castle was built if not long before that. “It’s beautiful.” 

“You- before, you said you had a bad dream.” Bran said quietly. 

“So did you.” 

“What did you dream about?” Brans eyes were wide and Dany could see the anxiety behind them. 

“I’ll only tell if you promise to tell me yours after.” Dany offered a smile. 

“Promise.” Bran nodded. 

“I dreamt about the Doom of Valyria,” it wasn’t wholly a lie, but she didn’t think this child needed to be burdened by the full horror of her dream. “Or that’s what I think it was at least. There was this huge city, and then the mountains around it burst and fountains of fire exploded out and destroyed the city. And after that the fire freezes, and the ice is so clear I can see the city and al it’s people frozen below me. I can’t really remember what happened afterwards. What did you dream about.”

Bran looked at the floor and kicked his feet together. “I dreamt I was falling.”

“Falling from where?” 

“Just falling,” he muttered. “And there was a bird on my chest. He kept screaming at me, fall or fly, fall or fly.”

Dany felt a chill go up her spine. “What sort of bird was it?”

“A crow. It- it had-”  
  
“-three eyes.” Dany finished for him. 

“How did you know?”

“I saw it too, only for a second and just tonight before I woke up.”

“Maester Luwin always says that dreams are only dreams,” Bran confided. “So does father. They say it’s just my imagination. But if you saw it too…”

“Does Maester Luwin Ser your dreams?” Dany asked. 

“No, of course not.” Bran looked puzzled. 

“Then perhaps he does not know as much about them as he thinks he does,” Dany took a deep breath. “In my experience, if dream feels like it’s more than just a dream, it probably is. Before the Greyjoy rebellion, I dreamed of a great red Kraken battling a golden lion, while a great wave came from the sea to flood the land.”

“Did you tell anyone?” 

“Only when it was too late,” Dany felt guilty at the memory. “I thought it was just a dream, but when we heard the Lannister fleet had been burnt… I told my brothers, but they both thought I was lying.”

“I’m sorry.”

Dany nodded. “I’m no expert, but I can tell you this Bran. Dreams are rarely what they seem, they show you one thing but mean another. They’ll give you some truth sure enough, but it will be veiled and disguised. Think carefully before you trust one.”

“I will,” Bran nodded. “I think we should head back now. People will be waking up soon.”

As they stood something cane running out of the bushes. This wolf seemed larger than Summer had been, leaner and darker too, the colour of smoke. He stalked around Daenerys, a low growl in his throat. She stayed completely still as the beast sniffed at her. Bran gave her a look that said she was doing the right thing. 

When the beast finished it’s pacing and crouched before her, Dany reaches out her hand as she had done with summer. The wolf growled deeper but Dany held her ground. Finally the growl died down and the wolf only bared it’s teeth. It stopped even that after a moment, then licked her fingers as Summer had done. 

It disappeared back into the bushes as quickly as it had come, “which one was that?” She asked. 

“Grey Wind,” Bran answers. “Robb’s wolf.”

Curiously, over the next few days of her extended stay in Winterfell, the eldest Stark sibling was considerably more welcoming to her than he had been on the first night. And by the time she set off for the Wall she decided that it would be Robb that she’d miss the most, and she would gladly call him her friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, one thing to clarify, this isn’t meant to insinuate that Dany is one of Bloodraven’s students or anything, this is purely just two people have if prophetic dreams very close to each other, and Bloodraven crossing over sort of by accident sort of because he wants to see Dany because she’s his kin.  
> Let me know what you think :)


End file.
